Seduction of a Proper Gentleman (Last Man Standing)

by Victoria Alexander

  He smiled at Kate. “And I am most impatient to hear it.”

  “As are we all,” Mother said brightly. She seated herself on the sofa and patted the spot next to her. “Kathleen?”

  “Thank you but I think I’d prefer to stand.” Kate was decidedly nervous. It was absurd, of course. What could she possibly have remembered that would make her this apprehensive? At once he realized she was not the only one.

  Oliver filled a glass for himself and thoughtfully took a sip. His gaze slid from Kate to Dumleavy to his mother. It could well be attributed to the odd nature of the situation they found themselves in but he had the distinct impression the others knew something he did not. And, as that impression included his mother, it did not bode well.

  “I’m not sure where to begin.” Kate twisted her hands in front of her.

  “The beginning?” Mother suggested.

  “Your name would be nice,” Oliver said.

  “Certainly, my name, I should have…” Kate nodded. “My name is Kathleen MacDavid. Lady Kathleen. My grandmother is the dowager Countess of Dumleavy and you have met my uncle.”

  Dumleavy raised his glass in a slight salute.

  Kate ignored him. “My husband was Sir Kenneth, dead these past nine years.”

  “My condolences,” Oliver murmured.

  “It was a very long time ago, but your sympathy is most appreciated nonetheless. However.” She glanced at Oliver’s mother. “Kenneth’s death really is the beginning.”

  The older woman nodded with satisfaction. “Always the best place to start.”

  Kate nodded. “It wasn’t until after his death that my grandmother told me a…a story as it were. I suppose you could call it…” She glanced at her uncle. “A legend? A family legend?”

  Dumleavy sipped his whisky. “That’ll do.”

  “I have always been fond of legends,” Oliver’s mother murmured.

  Kate continued. “According to the legend, five hundred years ago this very season two border families, one Scottish and one English, were supposed to be joined in marriage to end the years of violence between them. But the marriage never occurred.”

  “Probably the girl was to blame. English lass.” Dumleavy’s gaze met Oliver’s mother’s. “Flighty sort no doubt.”

  She smiled in a disturbingly provocative manner. “You would be surprised at what might be hiding behind flighty.”

  Dumleavy chuckled then directed his words to Oliver. “Here’s where it becomes interesting.” He crossed to the decanter, refilled his glass, then topped off Oliver’s. “You’re going to need this.”

  “I can’t imagine why,” Oliver said staunchly but took a long sip nonetheless. Thus far, Kate’s story had indeed been mildly interesting but pointless. Oliver really didn’t care about matters that happened five hundred years ago. Still, everyone else seemed intrigued.

  “When the marriage did not occur, an old woman—”

  “It’s always an old woman,” Mother said in an aside to Dumleavy.

  “This particular old woman had lost everyone she loved to the bloodshed and was furious that it would continue.” Kate paused, then chose her words with care. “So she cast a…a curse on the families involved. If they didn’t join in marriage by the end of five hundred years, both families would cease to exist and terrible, dreadful things would happen.”

  He stared at her for a moment then laughed. “Terrible, dreadful things? That’s rather imprecise. What kind of terrible, dreadful things?”

  “I don’t know exactly what kind of terrible, dreadful things. The curse was cast a very long time ago. Now, the details are…well…” Kate glanced at her uncle.

  “Lost in the mists of time,” Dumleavy offered.

  “They always are,” Mother said under her breath.

  “How convenient.” Oliver laughed again. “This is absurd but most amusing although I cannot for the life of me figure out why you’re telling this tale in the first place. It doesn’t seem to have anything to do with the situation at hand.”

  “It’s not absurd, nor is it amusing.” Kate glared at him. “And it has everything to do with the situation at hand.”

  “Perhaps, lass, he wouldn’t think it quite so funny if he knew it all,” her uncle said. “You’ve left out a few pertinent points.”

  “I was coming to them but I was interrupted,” Kate said sharply then drew a deep breath. “The families in question were yours and mine. You and I are the last of our lines.” She met Oliver’s gaze directly. “We must marry to end the curse.”

  Oliver resisted the urge to laugh again. “You’re mad aren’t you?”

  Dumleavy chuckled. “Runs in the family.”

  “Aside from the fact that this is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard.” A smug note sounded in Oliver’s voice. “My family has never lived anywhere near Scotland. You have the wrong family.”

  “Not exactly, dear.” His mother shook her head. “Your grandfather’s family did indeed once occupy land near the border. It was centuries ago but nonetheless, we are the right family.”

  “Do you really think we’d go through all of this without being certain we had the right family?” Indignation rang in Kate’s voice. “I came to England to marry you.”

  He stared at her. “You what?”

  “I came to England to marry you,” she said with a huff, as if he were the one making bizarre claims about curses and his intentions.

  “Marry the Englishman, break the curse.” Dumleavy shrugged. “Happens all the time.”

  “Not to this Englishman!” Was Oliver the only one who thought this was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard? “I don’t believe any of this and I especially don’t believe in curses.” He turned toward his mother. “You can’t tell me you believe this nonsense.”

  Mother smiled pleasantly. “I can’t tell you I don’t.”

  “How long have you known about this?”

  “Known about which part, dear?”

  “Pick one!” Oliver glared.

  “Well, I do recall first hearing of the curse from your grandmother long before you were born. But she wasn’t very specific.” Mother looked at Dumleavy. “I would think when one needs to impart information about something as formidable as a curse, one would be more precise wouldn’t you?”

  Dumleavy nodded. “It would seem fair. Forewarned and all.”

  “Exactly.” She smiled at the Scotsman then continued. “Some years ago, oh, seven or eight I think, Lady Dumleavy”—she nodded at Kate—“your grandmother, wrote to me. We exchanged several letters but ultimately I told her I couldn’t encourage my son in a match simply to end a curse I didn’t believe in.”

  “You couldn’t?” Oliver said slowly.

  “I couldn’t then.”

  Oliver narrowed his eyes. “But you just said you didn’t believe in the curse.”

  “No, dear, I said I didn’t believe in it then, although I must say Lady Dumleavy made some excellent arguments in support of its existence. Tragic, unforeseen deaths, that sort of thing.” Mother sipped her whisky. “Why, I had barely remembered anything about a curse at all until the other night at dinner when it just popped into my head, which is either quite fortunate or most curious depending on how you wish to view it. Then of course after I realized the truth—”

  “What truth?” Suspicion sounded in Oliver’s voice.

  “What truth?” Kate said slowly.

  “Why the truth about Kathleen,” Mother said casually.

  Oliver drew his brows together. “Are you saying you knew who she was?”

  Kate stared in disbelief. “You knew who I was?”

  “Your bracelet, dear,” Mother said with a shrug. “It has your family’s motto on it.”

  “Extremis malis, extrema remedia,” Dumleavy intoned.

  “Extremis…what?” Oliver stared. This was getting odder and more confusing with every word. And more annoying.

  “Extreme remedies for extreme ills.” Kate waved off his
question in an impatient manner and turned to his mother. “You knew who I was and you didn’t tell me?”

  “My apologies.” Mother cast her a repentant smile. “But it did seem best.”

  “About her loss of memory—” Oliver began.

  Disbelief shone in Kate’s eye. “But why?”

  “I am sorry, I know how difficult this has been for you. However.” His mother met Kate’s gaze firmly. “I thought it would be far better if you and Oliver had the opportunity to get to know one another without a curse hanging over your heads.”

  “I don’t believe in curses,” Oliver said again.

  “No one does at first, dear,” Mother said. “I certainly didn’t.”

  Dumleavy shook his head. “It took Kathleen years to accept it.”

  “You needn’t tell him that,” Kate said in a lofty manner. “It’s nothing he needs to know and really none of his business.”

  “I should think it’s all my business and certainly I should know everything,” Oliver said sharply. “Because all I know thus far is you have come to England to trap me into marriage—”

  Kate gasped. “Trap!”

  “Trap is such a harsh word,” his mother murmured.

  “Yes, trap me into a marriage based, if I were to believe you which I’m not saying I do, on some obscure, practically forgotten story, the details of which are vague—”

  Dumleavy nodded. “Lost in the mists of time.”

  Mother shrugged. “As they always are.”

  “Would you two stop saying that!” Oliver glared at the older couple, then turned his attention back to Kate. “As I was saying, all I know is that you came here to trap—”

  Her eyes narrowed at the word.

  “—me into marriage. Obviously feigning a loss of memory as part of a plan to do just that!” He tossed back the rest of his drink and smacked the glass down on the table beside the decanter.

  “Oh dear,” his mother said.

  Kate stared at him. “You think I was pretending?”

  “I don’t know what to think!” Oliver crossed his arms over his chest and studied her. “Thus far this evening you tell me you’ve recovered your memory and then I learn you were only here in the first place to trick me into marriage. How am I supposed to believe anything that you say?”

  “First of all, I had no intention of tricking you or trapping you. As for how—” Kate drew a deep breath and squared her shoulders. Anger sparked in her green eyes. Oliver’s stomach twisted and he realized he might have pushed her too far. Not that it mattered. He was angry himself and justifiably so. “I should think the answer to that is because you have come to know me.”

  “I came to know a woman named Kate, not Lady Kathleen.” Even as he said the words he wondered if he was wrong. Regardless of her name, he did know her. At least he had thought he did. But she’d made a fool of him and he was no longer confident as to what he did and didn’t know. Or what he felt.

  Her gaze met his. “I certainly thought I knew you.”

  “You’d best tell him the rest, lass,” Dumleavy said abruptly. “You can’t blame the man for not knowing what to believe.”

  “I most certainly can.” A cold note sounded in Kate’s voice.

  “There’s more?” Oliver huffed and held his hand out for the glass Kate’s uncle was currently refilling. “I can hardly wait.”

  “Sarcasm, Oliver.” Mother pressed her lips together. “Is most unbecoming.”

  “Very well then,” Kate said, “the rest is really rather simple. My Aunt Hannah and I traveled to London—”

  “Your Aunt Hannah? Yet another character in this farce?”

  She nodded. “Lady Fitzgivens.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “The same Lady Fitzgivens who found you and brought you here?”

  Kate rolled her gaze toward the ceiling. “Apparently.”

  “Ah-hah!” Triumph sounded in Oliver’s voice. “There we have it!”

  Dumleavy and Oliver’s mother exchanged looks. “There we have what, dear?”

  “The answer of course.” He gestured at Kate. “It was a conspiracy to manipulate me—”

  “Trap,” Kate snapped. “You said trap before, let’s stay with trap, shall we?”

  “It seems appropriate!”

  “As I was saying, my aunt and I traveled to London to meet you, and I must confess at that point, we had no actual plan for doing so. Then we learned you were here in the country, which did limit opportunities to meet.”

  “Well, you could have shown up at my door, pretending not to know who you were,” Oliver said.

  Kate ignored him. “Therefore my aunt suggested we both attend Lord Darlington’s party and that we travel to Norcroft by train then take a hired carriage the rest of the way.”

  “It’s much faster that way,” Oliver’s mother said to Dumleavy.

  “After we arrived in Norcroft…” Kate paused.

  “Go on.” Oliver nodded.

  “After we arrived in Norcroft,” she chose her words with care. “The next thing I knew was waking up in your house.”

  “Without any knowledge as to your own name.” Oliver snorted in disdain. “Hah!”

  “That was not intentional.” She wrinkled her nose. “On my part.”

  “On whose part then?”

  “My aunt had this absurd idea about pretending to have lost my memory—”

  “Ah-hah,” he said again.

  “If you say ah-hah one more time…” Kate closed her eyes as if to pray for patience, then drew a calming breath. “As I was saying, Hannah had a silly plan involving my pretending to have lost my memory but I refused to go along with it.” She met his gaze and he could see the truth in her eyes. If he could believe it. “It appears Hannah then took matters into her own hands.”

  “You’re saying your aunt pushed you off the train platform?”

  Kate hesitated. “In a manner of speaking.”

  “And it was sheer coincidence that you lost your memory?”

  “Possibly,” Kate said slowly.

  “I say again ah-hah!”

  “Or it might have been…” Kate glanced at his mother and her uncle. Thunder rumbled in the distance. She met Oliver’s gaze. “Magic.”

  Chapter 17

  Oliver’s brow rose. “Magic?”

  Kathleen studied him for a long moment. Regardless of her own disbelief, at this particular second, it was disloyal to her family not to defend what they believed to be real. “Yes, Oliver, magic.”

  Oliver stared. “What kind of an idiot do you think I am?”

  “I don’t know.” Kathleen crossed her arms over her chest. “What kind of idiot are you?”

  “Well I’m certainly not so stupid as to believe in anything as absurd as magic!”

  “An open mind, Oliver,” Lady Norcroft said in the same tone of chastisement she might have used when he was a boy.

  “My mind is open,” Oliver snapped. “More than open.”

  Malcolm snorted.

  Kathleen chose her words with care. “Then perhaps, if indeed your mind is open, we can discuss this in a calm and rational manner.”

  Oliver glared. “I am calm and I am always rational.”

  “It seems to me, there have been far too many revelations this evening for anyone to remain calm.” Lady Norcroft got to her feet. “The hour grows late and it has been a very long day. I suggest we all retire for the evening. We can continue this discussion tomorrow.” She turned to Uncle Malcolm. “I shall show you to your rooms, my lord.”

  “Oh, no.” Oliver shook his head. “He’s not going to stay here.”

  “Of course he is, dear. There are plenty of rooms available and I suspect it’s going to rain at any minute. We certainly can’t send him on his way now.”

  “I should be most grateful for your hospitality.” Malcolm nodded a bow.

  “Besides,” Lady Norcroft continued, “he is Kathleen’s uncle and as such is practically a member of the family.”

  “He
is not a member of this family.” Oliver’s voice rose. “Nor is she! Furthermore, I have no intention of marrying anyone to satisfy a curse I fully believe is rubbish.”

  “So much for an open mind,” Malcolm said.

  “Perhaps you’ve forgotten our own family’s motto, Oliver.” Lady Norcroft cast her son a pointed look.

  Oliver’s jaw clenched. “Veneratio, prosapia, officium.”

  “English please.”

  “Honor, family, duty,” he muttered.

  Lady Norcroft beamed. “How appropriate.”

  “I’m not marrying her.” A warning sounded in his voice.

  “Well, certainly not tonight.” Lady Norcroft moved to Kathleen and took her hands. “Again, please accept my apologies. It might have been a mistake not to tell you who you were the moment I realized it but I thought it was best. And I must confess, if I had to do it over again,” she winced, “I’m afraid I would.”

  “Lady Norcroft.” It was certainly upsetting to learn Kathleen could have had information as to her identity far sooner but she couldn’t fault Lady Norcroft’s intentions. She squeezed the older woman’s hands. “We all do what we think is wise.” Kathleen smiled reluctantly. “Whether it is or not.”

  Lady Norcroft looked firmly into her eyes. “I am confident all will turn out well.” She stepped back and nodded at her son. “Good evening, Oliver.”

  “You don’t seem very upset by all this.” He glared at his mother. “If you believe this nonsense then you must believe as well that there will be no more Leightons or Earls of Norcroft—”

  “Only if you don’t marry Kathleen and I must say, regardless of the curse, I quite approve of the match.”

  “—and terrible, dreadful things will happen!”

  “My dear boy, terrible, dreadful things have already happened.” The vaguest suggestion of sorrow flashed through Lady Norcroft’s eyes and Kathleen realized, whether or not Oliver’s mother truly believed in the curse, she would do whatever was necessary to ensure the safety and security of her family. She always had. “We shall sort all this out tomorrow. Good evening, Oliver.”

  “Kathleen, it’s a relief to see you are well.” Malcolm moved closer and brushed a kiss across her cheek. “Watch him, lass. I don’t think he’s nearly as much of an idiot as he appears.”